A Bond Beyond Time
by Merry Sioux
Summary: A sequel to "A Thousand Knives". Battle City has ended and both Yuugi and the spirit take advantage of the time they have left. The spirit bumps into the man he met in the museum. Or rather, Yuugi finds out about the man, deems him a trustworthy guy, and decides to plan another date for his other self.
1. Meet the Magician

_AN: Originally posted in Tumblr, here's a sequel to Thousand Knives because why not._

 _Many thanks for Elficiel because she inspired me to write more about this!_

 _(seriously, this was only supposed to be a one time thing, but now you're making me want to do my own modern!Mahad damn you)_

* * *

It was embarrassing to admit, but he had forgotten about the man in the museum. There were just too many things that happened after, the God cards, the Ishtars, Battle City, his memories. A strange man who gave him a strange card and said a strange message was not something his mind prioritized, mostly because it hasn't killed him yet.

Battle City was a mess, if he were honest. And he doesn't think anyone could blame him for forgetting.

Still, one of the reasons he never told much about his encounter to Yuugi is because he didn't expect to meet the man again, nor did he expect the man to remember him.

Or actually, he didn't expect Yuugi to meet the man. Nor did he expect the man to come up to him and start a conversation.

"You're the boy from the museum, correct?" The man asks, smiling. "How are you? Was the card I gave you useful?"

He tries to hide his sheepishness from Yuugi, but with the way he was looking down at the Puzzle with suspicion, it wasn't working.

"I'm… okay?" Yuugi replies, mentally side-eyeing the spirit. "And your card was, uh, very helpful in duels?"

Yuugi didn't know what card the man was talking about, it could have been a calling card for all he knew. But given that this is his other self that he suspects the man is confusing him with, it was safe to assume it was about Duel Monsters.

"I'm glad," the man beams. "I know you joined a tournament recently, so I hoped that it would help."

Okay, this was getting a little creepy. He hoped this man wasn't an overenthusiastic fan. _'Other me?'_

 _'… Remember that day when I asked to be alone?'_

He did, he hadn't asked for details, he was just glad that his other self looked less troubled after his trip.

Wait, that meant. "This is the onion guy?" He blurts out, the one he suspects his other self liked? He had thought it was a plain, bookish kind of guy. Maybe part of the museum staff who was happy to educate a high schooler. Not someone who looked like he could be part of an expensive host club!

 _'Aibou!'_

Oh, oops, he thought that out loud. Not one who looked like he could be Anzu's older brother - looks and kindess combined, he mentally amends.

The onion guy in question raises an eyebrow. "Are you remembering me just now?"

Oh, _oops_ , he said that out loud.

 _'You didn't tell me he gave you that card!'_ He had thought his other self had just bought a pack again. Also. _'You didn't tell me he was interested in you!'_

Silence.

 _'You didn't notice, did you?'_

The spirit says nothing, having the urge to be buried deep into the labyrinth of his soul so that nobody would find him.

"S-sorry, a lot of things happened… and you do look familiar," Yuugi lies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Say, uh, I never asked for your name, didn't I? And-" he eyes the man, pursing his lips. "-how old are you exactly?"

 _'Aibou?'_ The spirit wonders why he was interested in that.

"Ah, I'm twenty. I'll be twenty-one this December," the man replies, then he smiles wryly. "And I suppose it's fair you know my name, or else you'll just call me the onion guy," he chuckles. "It's Hadou Madoka, at your service."

"Madoka…?" Yuugi looks at the man some more.

"… Yes, it's girly," the man says dryly. "In my defense, I didn't choose the name."

Fair enough.

"Most just call me Ma or Mahou, by insistence of my… cousin," the man says, shrugging. "Or they call me by my surname."

He understood Ma but, "Why Mahou?"

"My part-time job, I suppose," he answers. "I'm a stage magician."

Huh. "Hadou Mahou… if you flip them, you'd get the word magical wave," Yuugi muses. "That could be a cool stage name."

"Don't give my cousin any reason to mangle my name as it is."

The man looked too amused with his wordplay, he didn't think it was that funny. "So what are you doing here anyways?"

"I've been hired for an event," he jerks his head at the booths and other props currently being built and set around Domino Square. "I take it you were invited to join?"

What?

"There's an event?"

"The CEO of Industrial Illusions is hosting an event to introduce a set of new Duel Monster cards he designed," the man explains. "You didn't know? I guess since the duel tournaments are only for beginners under thirteen, it wouldn't be under your radar."

Battle City wasn't even under their radar, they were just in the right time at the right place. If Yuugi hadn't planned the date, and if Kaiba wasn't being his typical dramatic self, they would never have known. "It's more of I haven't had time to be updated about anything, I've been busy."

If trying not to get magically killed could be counted as busy.

"You do look tired," the man says, faint disapproval lacing his tone. It reminded Yuugi of the times Anzu knew he was up all night playing games. "The booths aren't open and it's a bit messy, but would you like a tour? You might even be able to buy some items and see some of the performers practicing," he offers his hand. "It's not open, so we shouldn't entertain people yet, but I'm sure they'd give an exception to you."

Yuugi considers this man some more, he didn't look like he had any bad intentions. And honestly, after Battle City, his other self deserved another break. The date with Anzu had helped, but he remembered how relaxed the spirit looked that day he asked to take over and be alone with his thoughts.

The age difference bothered him, but he was sixteen (and he assumes his other self is at least that age too). So if it was just eating out and walking around, it wouldn't be anything bad. And if this man was some kind of pervert, well, they've faced worse. His other self could handle an ordinary man.

And to be honest, he doesn't think the man has any malicious intentions.

"Buy me some lunch and it's a date," Yuugi jokes, hands poised over the Puzzle, preparing to switch.

"I was planning to."

Oh, well, how could he say no to free food? Even one that he won't personally taste? He briefly closes his eyes to focus his energy.

The spirit stiffens at the large feeling of deja vu. _'Aibou, don't you dare-!'_

And he was out.

Unlike last time, he does not sputter and shout at the Puzzle in an embarrassing display. He instead bites his lip to keep himself for screaming the words he had been planning to say to his partner.

It takes him less than a second to compose himself.

"As long as you don't feed me only onions," the spirit sniffs, hiding his nervousness at being placed in this situation. "And as long as you explain to me why you gave me that card." That was still a mystery to him.

"Have you tried falafel?" The man asks, he gets a shake of the head in reply. "Well, I know a place that makes very good falafel, I have a feeling you'll love it," he smiles. "And I gave that card because I wanted to, simple as that," he reaches out to touch the spirit's ear. "Hmm, speaking of cards, I actually have some more to give you… like this one!"

The man holds out a card that seemingly came from his ear.

The spirit was not impressed (that was a lie, he was kind of impressed).

"No," the spirit says blandly, keeping a straight face. He quickly reads the description of the card and has to stomp down the temptation again. Did this man have a penchant for giving him cards he likes? Either way, he was not accepting freebies again.

"Not even if I add these?" The man waves his hand, and violet sparks emit from his fingers. One blink and there were suddenly three cards on his hand.

The spirit looks at the cards. "… No."

"That wasn't very convincing."

"I'm not getting any more free cards from you, I know how hard it is to get support cards like that," especially ones for rare cards like Dark Magician. "I have nothing to pay you with."

"Duel Monsters is a trading card game, isn't it?" The man waves the cards in front of him, like he was a dog being enticed with the scent of meat. "Well, you're giving me your time, and I'm giving you these cards as thanks."

"My time is not worth cards that rare," he scoffs, a little insulted for Dark Magician that any of his support cards were considered that cheap.

"I think it's worth a lot more, but this is all I can give you right now," the man counters, grinning at the soft pink staining the teen's cheek. "And lunch."

He didn't know what to say to that.

 _'Say yes, because we get free cards,'_ his partner pipes up. _'Really good cards.'_

 _'Aibou.'_

 _'Right, right, leaving now!'_

"Give me those cards, you manipulative onion-obsessed magician," the spirit grumbles, face still hot from what the man said. "And tell me more about this faferu thing you think I'll like."

"Falafel," the man corrects, giving the cards. He holds the spirit's wrist gently and softly tugs to the direction of the restaurant. "It's a dish that has..."

The spirit allows himself to be pulled, focused on the cards he has now. He wonders if this will be a thing, that whenever he meets the man he'll get cards related to his most trusted monster.

First was Thousand Knives.

Now these three.

Bond Between Teacher and Student.

Dark Magic Twin Burst.

Dark Spiral Force.

(he wonders why they're all related to Dark Magician)

He shouldn't be spending so much time with the people in this world, shouldn't be making more bonds that will just be broken, because he'll be leaving soon.

But he feels the warmth of the hand and hears the gentle tone of his voice, and he thinks it's just one bond. Just this one bond, one that is his alone and not Yuugi's. One that is not related to Yuugi's life at all, one that he found by himself.

Just one bond, it wouldn't hurt.

* * *

 _AN: Might be a two-shot, so I'm leaving this as incomplete._


	2. Falafel and Fire

_AN: In which things are explained, and everything is cute and fluffy._

* * *

The place Hadou takes them is only a few blocks away from the square.

It's an unassuming kind of restaurant, small and quaint. He wouldn't know it was there unless someone pointed it out to him, the tiny building looked like it stubbornly squeezed itself among the line of newer, larger, and more elaborate restaurants. It had a warm old look to it, soft cream walls with dark red motifs and dim yellow lights. It was a lot different from the modern theme of Burger World, or the fancy dinners he had attended in tournaments. He liked it.

"Good, there aren't much people yet, and he's done with the last customers," Hadou says, letting go of his hand. "It'll still take a while for our food to be done, I hope you don't mind waiting around fifteen minutes."

"It's fine," he replies, looking around. There were only a few people here, true. Most were eating some kind of sandwich. As they enter, he finds his suspicions about the restaurant's size to be true. There were only a few tables here and there, most of the space was for the kitchen. There was only one man in the kitchen, currently frying something that smelled delicious. In front of him were several containers of different sauces, dips, and pickles. "So what should I order?"

"I did bring you here for the falafel," Hadou says. "But there are other choices too, if those interest you more."

He looks briefly at the menu and concludes he has never eaten any of these, neither has Yuugi. All of them were interesting. "Falafel sounds fine," he says, tilting his head and reading the descriptions of the dishes. "The… Big Pita, I guess?"

Hadou nods and gestures at the containers. "You can add extras if you like."

"I don't want to take advantage," he protests.

"It's not like I took you to a fine dining restaurant!" Hadou laughs. "Order quickly, don't hesitate! The cook isn't getting any younger, he's old enough as it is."

Said cook flicks a clump of flour at Hadou without leaving his eyes from the pita sandwich he was making. The magician ducks easily, though his dark hair had small splatters of white dust.

He raises an eyebrow at their casual exchange. "Frequent customer?"

"If the man could have only fried onions and more onions as an extra in his pita, he would," the cook snorts, wrapping the sandwich and putting it to the side. He adds some more oil on the deep fryer and heats it up. "I say no just to spite him." He gets a nearby bowl filled to the brim with herb smelling batter and scoops a small amount in his hands. He rolls it into a ball and puts it on the chopping board.

"Aren't you worried he won't come back?"

"He's still here, isn't he?" The cook says, making several balls in quick succession. "Brought a new customer too, that's never a bad thing." He gives them a shooing gesture. "Your food won't be done in a while, so go do something—Magic and Wizards, or whatever games you young people play these days."

"I'm a magician, and I don't play card games," Hadou corrects. "Also, I didn't order."

"I'm a duelist, and I think you meant Magic the Gathering," the spirit adds. "Also, I play Duel Monsters."

"I'm the owner of this restaurant, and I don't care," the man deadpans. He points at Hadou. "Also, you're just going to order your onion monstrosity again. So orders are done, now shoo."

They shoo, finding a table next to the windows.

He twiddles his thumbs, feeling awkward. He doesn't know what to talk about. It was easier before, when it wasn't some kind of date. Now though, was there something he should be doing? With Anzu, it had been easy enough. She was the one who suggested things to do, and being friends with Yuugi, she had an idea on what activities they would both enjoy.

And since they were friends, it was hard to run out of topics to talk about. He didn't know much about Madoka Hadou, except that he has a penchant for giving him cards and does magic part-time.

He jumps as he hears the loud wet crackling sound of something dumped in hot oil. The place was slowly filling up with the scent of garlic and spices.

"The owner is a bit eccentric," Hadou comments, resting his head on palm of his hand. "He can be the nicest, wittiest old man to you, but he can also be rude, foul, and downright mean," he shakes his head. "There are times he'd shout at customers to never come back, or he just leaves their orders in a random table, not caring if it will get to them or not."

He raises an eyebrow. "He seems alright." A little grumpy, but that could just be his age talking. He knew grandpa had his bad days at the shop.

"I'm smart enough to know how to avoid the rude, foul, and mean side of people," Hadou snorts. "I've had plenty of practice."

For some reason, Kaiba pops into his mind. "Sounds fun."

"It's really not."

"Ah."

The sound of frying echoes in the building.

"I have a question about your deck," Hadou says. "If you don't mind."

He blinks. "Why would I mind?"

"Aren't you worried that people will discover your tactics?"

He laughs. "If all my moves could be predicted by looking at a list of my cards, then I wouldn't be a good duelist!" He shakes his head. "And that wouldn't be a good deck for me."

"Because the cards aren't good enough?"

"Because I wasn't good enough," he says. "What did you want to ask?"

Hadou looks at him contemplatively. "The first time we met, you were ecstatic at finding a card for Dark Magician," he says slowly. "And it's not much different now. I won't lie, I expected it. But I didn't expect the amount of enthusiasm you'd have in getting these cards," he shrugs. "Why though?"

"Why… do I want cards for a monster? In my deck? That I use?" He asks slowly, confused. Why wouldn't he want cards for Dark Magician? He was part of his deck so of course he'd be happy with cards that made him stronger.

"No, why focus so much on Dark Magician?" Hadou asks. "I've seen your duels, you have plenty of stronger monsters that could make winning easier," he brings up his hand and ticks his fingers off. "Magician of Black Chaos, Black Luster Soldier, Exodia-"

"Exodia is more of my grandpa's card," he interrupts. "And some pest threw the cards in the ocean, which is why I don't use them."

He doesn't think his anger at Haga for doing that will diminish. Those cards were Yuugi's (His? Their?) grandfather's cards. It was bad enough that his Blue Eyes White Dragon card was ripped apart, he had to lose five cards more as well. Cards that just seem… just seem…

 _(He looked up to find a huge titan battling against the wicked god, its chains clanking loudly as it wrestles against the monster. "Shimon," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Please, if there is any mercy left from the gods, help him survive." He doesn't want anyone else to die today.)_

(just seem like a part of him)

He shakes his head. "Black Luster Soldier as well," he shrugs. "The deck I used in Duelist Kingdom was mostly my grandpa's."

"He must be very good, to create a deck that could defeat duelists like Pegasus Crawford and Seto Kaiba."

"He is," he smiles softly. "The Dark Magician I have was originally his, but he gave it to us—me. I refused at first, he had lost enough cards as it is, but he insisted," he shakes his head. "He gave me a few more cards as well, saying that my heart was in them," he remembers several normal monsters he was given, along with Celtic Guardian and Kuriboh. "When his mind is set, it's very hard to say no to him."

"It's a generic trait for old people," Hadou says, ducking as a pinch of flour was thrown in his direction. "It still doesn't answer my question. You still have plenty of stronger monsters that could be in your deck, but you often focus on summoning spellcasters and using them in magic combos. Dark Magician and his apprentice usually," he tilts his head. "Even your God cards seem to be second priority in your deck, why is that?"

He's about to explain the trust he has with his cards, the belief he has in them, but pauses. That doesn't seem to be what he was asking, he has a feeling it would be redundant to this man.

And if he were being honest, using Dark Magician has always been different. There was a feeling of elation in summoning him, in using him to defeat his opponent. It was different from when he used Osiris.

Perhaps in other games, in other sports, aces having certain skillsets that would lead to a definite win was logical. Be strength, or skill, or being support to everyone else. It made sense, and if it were any other game, he would agree with that mindset.

That wasn't the case in Duel Monsters. A duelist's ace did not equal to the most optimal card, or else Mai would have chosen monsters stronger than her Harpies, or Jounouchi would have gotten a better ace to suit his gambling deck (instead of sticking with Red Eyes Black Dragon), or he would have focused more on quick summoning his God cards (instead of adding other Warrior and Spellcasters in his deck). By logic, their decks should be unwieldy and clunky. But that was rarely the case.

He remembers Pandora's duel. "Strength and effects aren't the only things that win a duel," he says slowly, trying to explain something that just seemed incredibly innate with true duelists. Even Kaiba understood the concept of the heart of the cards, no matter how much he denied it. "The God cards may have given me their trust, but I haven't given them my heart."

"Your heart?"

He hums an affirmative. "Jii-chan has a card, it's ripped," he murmurs. "But before that, K—someone was willing to trade a briefcase filled with rare cards to get it. He refused, saying that he would never trade the card even if it wasn't a rare card. That it was precious to him, that it had his heart," he closes his eyes, remembering the awe he felt at the amount of warmth his grandpa's Blue Eyes had. "Jii-chan was precious for that card as well. Their feelings were mutual. I was dueling against someone who used his card and it backfired."

The dragon didn't want to attack him, didn't want to attack her owner's family, so she destroyed herself. The next turn, he was able to summon his grandpa's card, was able to get her back.

He opens his eyes. "It sounds silly, I've heard it a million times, cards are cards and don't feel," he shrugs, recalling Kaiba's typical reactions and other duelists' disbelief when he declares his trust with his cards. "But they do and it can break or make a duel. A duelist could love their cards, but the cards don't feel the same way. The cards could love their duelist, but the duelist could care less about them," he still has the shaved Dark Magician card that he won in Pandora's duel. Saddened that he can't use him, the shaved edges of the card deeming it illegal to use. "It makes for different dynamics, for different outcomes."

He remembers Jounouchi's first duels, how he often had a horrible draw in the first turn. Their friends joked that it was his unpredictable luck, but he knew it was more of his cards still getting used to him.

He remembers Isis relying on her predictions, how she was confident in her visions instead of her cards. How Kaiba defeated her by trusting his Blue Eyes. Kaiba's heart of his cards overpowered Isis' magic of her Necklace.

"The best though," he continues. "Is when the duelist loves their cards, and the cards love them back. It's amazing to witness, and more amazing to experience," he laughs softly, remembering the first time he summoned Dark Magician. Remembers how it felt right, how he felt safer. "That's the heart of the cards in its essence, that's why I use Dark Magician despite having 'better' choices," he turns to the window, resting his cheek on his hand. He looked at the people passing by. "The God cards… I trust them with victory," he concludes. "But not my life."

 _("If there is any mercy left from the gods, help him survive." He had pleaded once, but nobody answered. Shimon was dead.)_

"And never my heart," he looks back, smiling wryly. "Unlike Dark Magician, the Gods don't have my heart," he shrugs again, feeling his face heat up as Hadou stared at him. "I understand if it sounds ridiculous, but that's the answer I have."

"Not at all, it doesn't sound ridiculous," Hadou says, his face neutral. "Just… surprising."

The spirit fidgets, wondering if he said something wrong. The man wasn't a duelist, he said that much, so maybe it did sound stupid to him, and he was just being polite? Though he wondered why he cared so much about that.

Hadou turns. "It looks like our orders are here."

And indeed they were, the owner personally bringing two large plates of what seemed like a larger sandwich-wrap of some kind. He places two small bowls of what seem to be dip, one that was white and smooth and the other was a light beige and lumpy. Both had a sprinkle of chopped herbs and spices on them.

All in all, the food looked and smelled delicious.

"Thank you," he says to the owner, and the man nods. Flicking more flour at Hadou before he leaves, going back to his kitchen.

Hadou sputters, trying and failing to wipe away the flour on his hair. The spirit smiles, amused at the antics of the seemingly regal man. He pokes his food curiously. "So I eat it like a burger?"

"Try not to say that when people are around, a lot of vegans can be snippy," Hadou grumbles, giving up on fixing his current salt and pepper look. "But yes, you can also dip the falafel—those are the balls—on the bowls of sauce."

He looks at the sandwich, then at the dip. "Sounds messy," he comments, getting his sandwich. "I already like it."

He bites on it, blinking at the flavors entering his mouth. "It's—"

(familiar)

"Really good," he chews slowly.

Hadou laughs, grabbing a paper napkin and leaning forward. "I had a feeling you'd like it," he gently wipes away the sauce that had stuck on the spirit's cheek. "Try it with the sauce, and—oh, I almost forgot…"

He places the napkin in front of his own plate, covering it from the spirit's sight, and shakes it a bit. He puts it away. There were two bottles of water behind his plate. "The place doesn't serve drinks, so we have to bring our own. Especially since we chose the spicy version."

The spirit nods. "I have a question, if you don't mind," he says seriously. "But have you ever gotten anything normally, like a mundane non-magician person, or do you just do this to me?"

"What can I say, I like making magic with you," Hadou replies, giving a charming smile.

He gives the magician a quirked eyebrow, then flicks a bit of flour at his face.

Hadou sputters again. "How did you even get that?" He pouts.

He says nothing, plucking one falafel in his sandwich and dipping it in one of the sauces. He takes a bit, savoring its flavor.

The magician pouts some more. "Mutou-san is so mean."

He wrinkles his nose, he has never been called that. He doesn't think even Yuugi has been called that unless he was in trouble in school. "Please don't call me that, it's strange."

Hadou raises his eyebrow. "You allow people to say your name so casually?"

"I think most say it as an insult, or a form of respect, or both," he muses, trying the other sauce this time. "Duelists aren't known to be polite." Or maybe he's just surrounded by incredibly rude people in general.

When he thinks about it, only Isis had been polite to him. And that was more because of her sense of duty rather than social propriety.

"I'm not a duelist though."

"My friends call me Yuugi as well," he points out, or the other Yuugi. But he rather Hadou not call him that. "And, well, we are in the process of being friends, right? I don't mind you calling me by my name." Aibou's name.

"Yuugi-san then," Hadou says, smiling. "Is that alright?"

He considers it, chewing thoughtfully. "Yes, it's," the honorific was strange, he had never been called –san before. Usually it was –kun (or –boy, but that was just Pegasus). It felt special, different, a bit like how Kaiba could say Yuugi and mean two different people by just his intonation. "It's okay, I can be Yuugi-san."

Hadou smiles again and starts eating his food.

He gets one of the bottles and drinks, he then gets one of the napkins and wipes his face. "What should I call you then?"

"Hm?"

"Should I call you Hadou-san? Or Madoka-san? Or is that too informal?" He asks, taking another bite off his sandwich. "Or one of the nicknames you mentioned? Though that seems too bold…"

"You can call me any of those," Hadou assures him. "I'm already using your first name, I don't see why you should be limited to only my family name."

He considers it, recalling the conversation he had with Yuugi. That if he arranged his names, it would mean magical wave. A playful name for a playful magician.

"Hadou Madoka, right?" he says, nibbling on his falafel. "Madoka doesn't really suit you, and Mahou seems… lacking? For some reason?" He scrunches his face, thinking hard. Magical wave. "Mahou… Hadou, mahou-dou… ma-… hadou? Mahadou? Ma-ha-dou," he enunciates. "I like that," he smiled. "Can I call you that? Mahadou-san?"

Hadou chokes, beating his chest hard to get the food uncomfortably stuck on its way down his stomach dislodged. The spirit offers him his bottle and he gets it gratefully, gulping down some water.

He droops. "Not good?"

"No! No, it's," the magician coughs. "Just a surprise, that's all. It sounded similar to my—well," he drinks again. "Mahadou is… surprisingly nice."

"Oh," he smiles. "Okay then, Mahadou-san."

"Yuugi-san," Mahadou says back.

They stare at each other, then snort, and then laugh.

* * *

The moment the Puzzle was solved, the door between the world he was born in and the world he had lived in for hundreds (thousands) of years had been reopened. He wasn't sealed to only one world anymore.

But that didn't mean he could go back easily. For if that were the case, many of the inhabitants in the spirit world would have crossed over by now. It would have taken immense energy to have a corporeal form, and to keep it existing for long periods of time seemed impossible without an active summon.

Then again, he wasn't one of the greatest magicians for nothing. And if he wanted something done, he would do it.

Though as he looks at the petite teen who was looking at the performers practicing in awe, he wonders if he's pushing it too far. It wasn't supposed to last this long, this illusion he was holding. The memories he had fabricated, the short life he was living now.

When he first summoned himself, it was because he couldn't resist the temptation, not when everything that could help him cross over had been in place. Not when he could help his prince, even just a little bit. His prince had stood before the tablet, holding the Puzzle and looking at the ancient carving with a heartbreakingly forlorn expression. He couldn't stand by and passively help like he had been doing before.

And really, it's not only Set who likes to meddle with things just to make their king happy.

Before cards, stone tablets had been used as conduits. A source of energy needed to be present, and perhaps another item to stabilize his form. And obviously, skill and experience was needed to successfully cross over.

His prince has always been a huge well of power, the Puzzle coincidentally made summoning easier.

And he had been standing in front of a tablet that depicted him, a tablet that could be used to summon him. So why not?

He had summoned himself out.

His form was not his original human form, he doesn't think he can accurately create it anymore. The spirit world had a way of changing someone if they didn't know how to adapt quickly, removing traits and mutating some. And for all his knowledge, he had been new to the world. By the time he figured out how to maintain his spirit form, he had already immersed too much of its metamorphic energy. So there were times his skin was tinged blue, or his hair would bleach to platinum blond, or his armor would change to pitch black. And there were times he would have a semi-normal skin tone, his hair would be violet, and his clothes an even brighter violet.

He was glad that he still had a humanoid form, one that was similar enough to his original one that his student had recognized him instantly when she first entered the world.

For this, he had gone with something less odd. Something more native to the country his prince was in. Darker hair, thinner lips, narrower eyes, and paler skin (not blue, gods no). He had appeared, pulling energy from both his and his prince's reserves and summoning himself behind him.

And then they talked in the museum.

It was supposed to end with that.

But to see his prince alive and well (as alive and well as he could be), to see him after thousands of years being resigned to failing his duty, to see him as a person instead of a Duel Monster was something he didn't realize he wanted so badly. He didn't want to end this, not when he could interact with him beyond duels and life threatening situations (because honestly, he doesn't think his heart could handle one more situation where his prince's legs are chained to something that belonged in a torture dungeon).

Then Battle City escalated, and he knew where his priorities lied, so he abandoned trying to meet him again.

Until today.

"I should really go, aib—I still have schoolwork to catch up," his prince sighs. "Battle City ate up a lot of my school days, and I'm rather keen in not failing," he gives a pointed look at the Puzzle. "No matter how much I want to avoid it."

The Puzzle looked stiffer than normal.

"I understand," he says, smiling. "I need to set-up and practice for the event, so I'll be busy as well."

"It's tomorrow, right?" His prince asks, and he nods in reply. "Well, I know it's a school holiday tomorrow so maybe I— _aiboudon'tyoudareI'lldoitmyself_ ," he hisses, glaring at air, then looks back. "Uh, that is, can go?" He says, gripping the Puzzle, he was a little red again. "I mean—I really enjoyed today so," he bites his lip. "It would be nice to do something. Like this."

He shouldn't be here.

"I'd be happy if you could see my performance," he replies, finding his prince's bashfulness endearing. "In my full costume and equipment."

"I'll bring jii-chan as well!" His prince pipes up, then twitches. "I mean, I'm sorry, it's just—jii-chan loves Duel Monsters so—"

Taking advantage of his prince's magic, creating false memories, playing a false act.

"Bring any of your family and friends along," he says. "Yuugi-san," he starts. "There's no definite rule in spending time with people, I have no problem with you bringing company."

"But that's not something you should do in a date, right?"

He really shouldn't be here.

"Do you want it to be a date?"

His prince frowns. "But wasn't today a date?"

He was interfering with other people's lives, the actual Yuugi Mutou for one.

"Do you want it to be?"

But…

"It felt a lot like when Jounouchi and ai—when I spend time with my friends," his prince admits.

"Then it can be that."

But it was just one bond.

"So…"

One that he missed dearly.

"I'll be performing around two," he says. "But it starts at noon, so maybe you and your grandfather could spend some time together."

It wouldn't hurt to keep doing this, right?

"Okay," his prince nods, beaming. Something rare from him. "See you tomorrow, Mahadou-san."

"Same to you, Yuugi-san."

Just one.

* * *

Smoke was in his eyes, dust filled his mouth, and a familiar thick copper scent wafted around him.

He trembles, holding his energy in as he kept his shield up. Under him was his prince, unconscious after trying to protect Yuugi from the blasts.

There were still the falling debris to deal with though, so he had stepped in. Creating a dome to umbrella them from the raining concrete and metal.

How did this happen? How did anyone expect something like this to happen? Who summoned those dragons and attacked an event meant for _children?_

He coughs, dark blood spitting out of his mouth. Whoever was behind this, it left the square unstable. There was a rift somewhere, and it's made him weaker in this world. It didn't help that his prince was weak as well.

"Mm, wha-?"

He huffs, expending all his power in heaving away the last large chunk of building that would have fallen on the teen.

"What?" His prince groans, clutching his head. "What happened? Jii-chan, are you-" he stops, slowly looking at the destruction around him. "… okay?"

His prince gets up, then staggers, blood dripping on his head.

"You shouldn't get up," he holds him in place, panicking as he felt his form diminish further. The instability making him less corporeal. "Yuugi-san, you're injured."

"Mahadou-san? Why is—" His prince stiffens. "You're bleeding," he states blankly, comprehension slowly coming back. "The monster," he breathes, head quickly scanning what used to be an area filled with buildings. "Oh, gods, this is—" he hitches, clinging to his arms. "This is-! Jii-chan?" His eyes were wet. "The kids? There were so many kids, but I don't see any of them," he trembles. "Where are-?"

His prince yelps as he loses balance, phasing out of the magician's arms. He's quickly caught and pulled up again, he notices now the blue tinge on the man's arms. "Mahadou-san…?"

He grits his teeth, keeping his form as stable as he could. He didn't have much time, his magic was weak here and his prince's magic wasn't enough to preserve his body. As much as he wanted to stay longer, to help his prince with his shock, he had to settle with physically healing him only and hoping help would arrive soon.

He cups his prince's face, pressing his forehead against his and channeling as much healing magic as he could in him. He guided his energy to heal and knit any damage it could find. Golden light slowly spread throughout his prince's body.

"Are you-? How are you-?"

"Forgive me," he whispers, casting a sleeping spell and a small memory charm. One that would make him forget about seeing this form and his magic, one that would make him forget about seeing the death and destruction. "If I could reverse time to undo this, I would."

But this was the best he could do.

As his prince slowly falls back to blissful unconsciousness, body fully healed and protected. He feels himself getting weaker, resigned to being pulled back to the spirit world.

If only he were stronger.

* * *

 _AN: Haha, I lied._


End file.
